Monday, November 9, 2009

Eight years ago, this house was a scenic spot on my favorite run. It’s in the southern area of Pasadena, not far from the Ritz. Or whatever they call the Ritz these days. I never considered the house beautiful, maybe it had been originally,in the 20s or 30s, but too many owners had imposed too many ideas involving too much plaster and stucco. Still, no one could tamper with the basics: Large property, beautifully situated, vast view, privacy.

Regardless of the messy front, the house belongs in the mansion category – and, as one might say of a bad face lift, the sides and back are still of interest. Eight years ago I would have guessed…five million? Maybe more.

About the time I moved from the (adjacent, i.e., not rich) neighborhood, the new owners had developed an obsession with knock-off statues. Lions and tigers and bares. The bares were mostly Roman or Greek, mostly women. The grass was brown as always, but I recall pipes and columns laid out across the acreage, presaging a grand project.

When I left the area, I just forgot about it all.

I don’t know why I took a run down that road today, but I did. The house is for sale. I jogged up and down the street a couple of times, then happened to lean against the main gate for a rest. And I happened to note there was no lock on the gate. And I happened to lean a bit harder. And it happened to squeak open. Well, hallo, and I accidentally tumbled inside. It was one of those long tumbles that took me through the front yard and the back acreage, and, whoa, up to the front door, down to the service porch, reeling up a balcony, then twirling around the hall window until I was nose to glass. Balance is so tricky on a hillside.

The statuary is the least of the problems today. Foreclosure is the main one.

How odd to get up close and personal with an area I had cared about in the past, for whatever reason. I mean, how odd to visit shoe to step, forehead to glass. And what had they done. What had they done? Home Depot steps lead here and there, and the green green grass, shockingly, isn’t vegetable or even mineral. Let me put it this way, don’t light matches anywhere close to the lawn.

I felt thrilled, I felt sad. Like meeting a famous old racehorse that everyone has so forgotten, they don’t even lock the paddock.

Don’t worry old chap, I said, and brushed off a layer of leaves from the porch. Someday someone will shine you up and no one will ever know a plaster Venus posed on Astroturf by your front door.

And I sat on the steps and thought about a lot of things, just so the old house would have a few secrets on me. Just so we'd be even.

I know that house. It took me awhile to get the bare/bear connection. I can give "it" but I seem to have a harder time interpreting "it".

I'll have to swing by with Mary and visit. If it were a bit farther south, law enforcement would have been on you like white on Webers. I was going to say rice but thought it would be taken the wrong way. So easy to do on the web.

I read somewhere that having money doesn't improve your taste, you just want a lot more of the same old stuff. Susan Cheever I think? The painted brick ain't got no soul but the door and the painting and the awning supports hint at a lighter, more thoughtful touch. I just have to wonder what all those empty pedestals are for.

I enjoy these little jaunts, especially knowing your next posting could possibly be about the vagaries of the local police department.

tumbled in? LOL! Amazing how that works. Gotta agree tho---more money spent on the house payments and less on cr@ptastic statues etc, maybe they'd still be in the house. astroturf? c'mon, really? oy!

bares...love it.

If it is house I am recalling, a friend lived in it many years ago. Have no idea if she was related to the owners or the live-in help or? Just know I dropped her off and she went inside (tho, using your technique, maybe she DIDN'T live there afterall!;-).

The Ritz...I have such a hard time calling it that---t'was always the Huntington Hotel and for a few years, my mother had an office in one of the darling buildings nearby...things change so much over time!

P,I was a French poulet at first, although I longed to bust into every great doorway and see what was inside. Peter showed me how to just "push" and see. My last day in Paris when I had NOTHING to lose, I just acted like I lived there! Found some nice courtyards and a French Stranger I posted a while back. Next visit? I'll be ruthless! :)V

And Shanna, I loved bare breasts at one time, but now mine have flown south. Sigh.

Hiker, may I just make this observation. Your blog is getting pretty close to our Eric's PDP blog where the commenters all talk amongst themselves. It's like a techy party line! :) Or maybe a virtual cocktail party. I think that sounds more fun.:)V

Mr. Earl steered me to the Hiker's blog becuase the discussion had evolved to a discussion about breasts. Thanks Mr. E!

Now the Huntington, I used to go there 40 years ago for weddings and special events. Then, they tore it down after one of the Earthquakes - the Whittier Narrows, I think. What was sad was they made the decision several months after the earthquake and then gave like three weeks notice meaning many weddings and banquets were cancelled with little advanced notice. But, I have to say they replicated the original one very well. It's still a grand, if not old, place. And it will always be the Huntington, regardless of who owns it.

So all you have to do is go toDesignCommentsfind the spammer's comment (not mine)check the box next to it and mark it as spamWhile you're there, you might see other comments the spam filter found. You can also mark those and delete them; this teaches the spam filter what is spam and what isn't, thus sparing you these blowhards in the future.